May 28th, 1003 AN - 96:78 AM
Ditzy stood near the edge of the water, a stiff, humid wind blowing through her short blonde mane. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, her good eye slipping shut, her bad eye forced closed as well. The smell of decaying, oily carcasses all around her intensified as the waves collided in front of her. The mare hefted the stone in her forehoof, bouncing it a few more times. She tucked it between her leg and her chest.
“We’re back again. You can talk here, you know.”
Ditzy blinked, her bad eye twitching. Her hooves stepped cautiously over the bodies of dead fish and birds that littered the shore, the piles attracting swarms of noiseless flies. Some carcasses were reduced to mere skeletons.
She moved toward the sporadically thrashing, jagged black figure that lay half-submerged in sunset-orange water, a small boat floating a few meters away from it. The figure let out incoherent, echoing, distorted noises. Its body spewed disparate green sparks. Its big, thin, carapaced visage would flicker to that of a pony for a split second, then revert. Puddles of green, bubbling synaptic liquid polluted the water around it, oozing out of the large gash on the changeling’s head.
“This was all such a long time ago. You remember well, don’t you? It’s strange.”
When Ditzy opened her eyes, she found herself on the boat. Her coat fizzled from the synapse staining it, and the rock she had used was gone. The mare’s forelegs shook, muscles quivering after the pummeling. A pile of bags lay behind her on the deck.
The moon was high.
A silent unicorn filly sat on top of the bags, glancing at the sunset over her shoulder.
In front of the boat, the orange hues of sunrise started to color the still water.
“Is it really working?”
Ditzy began to hyperventilate. Her eyes darted back and forth, often crossing each other. Her heart beat rapidly and she shook her head, a quiet, raspy gurgle leaving her throat. She beat on her chest, stumbling around on three legs, and fell off the boat. The unicorn filly looked down at her from where she sat, then turned back to the sky, rocking in place, hugging herself with her forelegs.
The mare rolled and heaved in a blurry haze. She made quiet, sibilant noises, eventually purging her stomach all over the pier, a bit of red staining the corners of her mouth. Wobbling from vertigo, Ditzy spread her wings to help balance herself in the persistent, odorous wind. Her coat, stained with blood and synapse, got clumped and damp from the sweat. Wings spread and eyes barely functioning, she stumbled along the ascending street, getting tripped by the many bird corpses surrounding her.
“This is ugly. Why do you want this? You do know, don’t you.”
Ditzy opened her irritated, teary eye. Her daughter stood up, her head turned toward the water, a small rock bouncing in her hoof. Next to her stood the much taller, bulkier, misshapen dark shape of an alicorn. It was dark enough that it nearly drowned out the blazing orange that reflected off the water, the tiling, the windows of the empty shops and the drying patches on the mare’s chest. Despite the spreading darkness, the alicorn’s wide open, toothy grinning mouth was fully visible.
“You’ve asked yourself this. Is this really working?” it said, its mouth not moving.
The mare shut both her eyes and stumbled toward her daughter, but the distance did not close. Her breath became the only sound, wheezing and quiet. She walked down winding streets, through shops, apartments, and finally reached a plaza, beyond which she could see the railings on the edge of the harbor. It was all littered with dead birds.
The smell of rotting fish emitted from beyond city limits, from the shores all around. The plaza she walked through was in disarray, vendor carts tilted over, banners torn and hanging in shreds off poles, some pieces of tile missing, some blackened as if struck by lightning, some molten and charred from intense flames. A bulky, awkward mock-up of a horned, winged changeling with its fangs out sat impaled on a pole at the very middle of it, covered in rotten fish. It wobbled in the wind, flailing its disproportionate limbs aimlessly. The only spot free of the dead birds was near it, so Ditzy gained speed, leaving pus and blood stains on the many notices and letters spread all around the mock changeling.
“Do you think this makes sense? How about this?”
She refocused her eyes, having gotten through most of the plaza, and approached the railing. The mock changeling was gone. The alicorn shape stood there. It wobbled in the wind, facing her and grinning continuously. The moon shone brightly through the orange of the sunrise, veiling more and more of the town in shadows, obscuring the desolation and the birds. Ditzy walked on to the railing.
“You feel nothing, do you? You had a goal. You didn't bat an eye. Why here then? Why this? You think this is what you’re looking for? Ponies like you need help, you know.”
Ditzy reached the railing and glanced to her side, where the alicorn’ body stood. It continued to grin at her, darkness spreading all around it, and little of her was visible now. Birds perched or lay all over her body, both living and dead.
A crane’s long, knife-like head hung over the alicorn’s, wobbling in the wind alongside hers. A pigeon sat on her neck, staring at Ditzy with dead eyes. A hawk was clinging to a leg with its talons, its head pointed motionlessly into the tile below. A vulture sat on its shoulders, peering into nowhere with its wide green eyes. A raven shifted on one of the wings, bracing itself against the wind. A pair of ducks huddled together, next to a rooster and an owl, taking up her back. An albatross was sprawled out on another wing, only making slight motions to not fall off. A magpie sat on the tip of the alicorn’s snout, tilted forward, nearly poking the pegasus’ eye out.
The more she looked at the flock covering the alicorn, the darker the skies became. When she turned away, a swarm of birds filled the air.
The moon was gone. The sun was high, bland and plain.
“You can still find something to do. You know a lot. Should you?”
---
“Mom?”
May 28th, 1013 AN - 09:47 AM
“Are you— oh, oh, good. Sorry, I thought you had another… uh, yeah.”
Ditzy shook her head, placing a hoof against it, and shifted around in the depression she had left in the couch. She then reached for a glass of water, her eyes still closed. Dinky helped by moving her hoof towards it. With a nod, the mare downed the glass and opened her eye. The videodrome buzzed and flickered in front of her, a newscaster's voice reduced to incoherent mumbling.
“You… um, dozed out. I lowered the volume. Is everything okay?”
Ditzy blinked her eyes free of the sleepy muck and cast a quick glance at the kitchen. Faint stripes of sunlight slipped into the room through the tightly closed windows, and thick, grey storm clouds obscured most of the sky. A strong wind blew outside, rocking the palm trees that lined the beach. After giving her head another shake, the mare gestured to the filly. Dinky exhaled and climbed up on the couch, leaning back.
“Hmmm… I guess we’re staying at home all day,” Dinky said. “The forecast says it’s not gonna be very good outside for a while. You don’t have to go anywhere today, right?” She leaned against Ditzy and looked at the commercials on the wide crystalline screen. For a few moments the pegasus sat still, before sighing. Her right foreleg wrapped around her daughter and brought her in for an embrace.
They sat and watched whatever broadcast was on until late noon. The mare only got up to make dinner for the two of them, staying on the couch and browsing through the channels the rest of the time. Eventually Dinky got bored and left, going back to her room. Ditzy sighed and pulled an envelope from under the thick book on the coffee table. With a twitch in her bad eye, she got it open. The letter was framed and ornamented, hoof-written as opposed to typed. The seal on the envelope was thick, red, genuine wax, the markings bearing the letters 'ED' with four shapes around them.
Dear Ditzy,
We wish to congratulate you on the enormous efforts you’ve put into restoring our little community. This town would never have been the same without you!
The years of hardship took their toll on all of us, but ponies like you are proof that Equestria can, and will, come back stronger than ever. You are therefore cordially invited to our peace convention, situated at the Opportunity Heights Manor (3 Tejuano Hgs.) Any scheduling conflicts with the concurrent Opportunity Heights East Equestrian Summit are purely accidental, and you are to proceed with your business as usual. You and your co-contributors to peace in the Carol City community will have their names and likenesses go down in history of this fine city. It's time to stop being stories and help build history.
We all fought in a War, each in their own way. We are glad you left your seashores and accepted to join us.
At the end of the day, dear Ditzy, remember: with our service, Equestria is a wholesome unity of wonderful individuals! This is a victory that nobody can take from us. You can expect opposition, but we trust you know not to leave anypony ignorant. Go in and take Opportunity Heights by storm, as you always have. We expect to hear of you on the news!
The main event begins at 11 PM. We expect your arrival before 10:30 PM. Look for your friends: Rooster, Owl, Duck 1, Duck 2. Dress discretely. This is where your paths cross.
Best wishes,
Red Stamp
Assistant Manager, EQUESTRIA DELIVERY SERVICE CLIENT SUPPORT
She left quietly that evening, having packed her bag with her suit, mask and knives. Dinky decided to watch videotapes for the night, and she sleepily waved goodbye as her mother left the apartment.
Ditzy trudged carefully on the wet slope, occasionally squinting her good eye to catch a glimpse of the large, sprawling, well-lit mansion up above. An umbrella quivered over her head, barely held in place with the tight grip she kept on it with her teeth. Instead of following the slippery tiles that led straight up, she progressed along a wide path that curved around the elevated rock formation, with the mansion standing on the very edge. The rain pattered on the thin palmtrees, making noise and reducing visibility. Regardless, Ditzy remained alert, eye constantly scanning her surroundings.
The mare was about to round a corner when she noticed a blocky motorized pizza delivery carriage, its engine running as it sat on a wide outcropping. It was parked in the same direction she was headed, and the tracks leading to its position were fresh. The mare stood still, waiting a minute or so to see if there would be any motion around the cart, and for the occupants to give any signs of life. Faintly, she could hear some chatter and shuffling within the vehicle, barely audible over the rain as it drenched the location.
Holding her breath, she crept up to the rear doors of the carriage, coming to a halt each time the conversation within heated up.
“You guys had like a week to prepare for this. What stopped you from fixing the damn cart?”
“I’ve been telling him for weeks. It's a no, you know how he is. Besides, unlike the rest of you, I have a job.”
“Then tell him to go outside and just fucking do it. He’s the only one who’s not bothered, apparently.”
“Guys, stop fighting over nothing. This is really not that big a deal. It's all fair, they got the cart, we got the goods. Just go outside and give it a kick.”
“Right… and he’s just going to sit here and stare at the moon? Fuck’s sakes...”
Ditzy stood near the doors, waiting for a lull in the argument. Eventually, she knocked her forehoof against the worn metal a few times. The chatter inside immediately went silent. Ditzy's limbs tensed up.
After a couple of heartbeats banged in her ears, the click of the lock rang out, and the doors creaked open. Her nose wrinkled as an odd stench burst forth from the interior. Inside was a group of disheveled ponies gathered around a pile of duffel bags, various empty bottles and litter strewn about on the floor around them.
“Uh... huh,” one of them, a green unicorn stallion with a short blonde mane, said quietly. “There something we can do for you, lady?”
A mare who sat to his side, an earth pony with nearly identical features, lightly jabbed the stallion in the side.
“Sorry, ma’am. Awful rain tonight. Maybe you should go home.” The green mare was pressing up against a sheathe that contained a large, wide rectangular object. The stallion covered his face with a hoof, huffing through his nostrils. There were two more ponies, who sat in the front half of the van, gesturing to each other. One of them, a male vanilla colored unicorn with thick, long red hair and a beard, glanced over his shoulder and gestured to the earth mare.
Ditzy blinked, unmoving, as all eyes fixed on her. The occupants were surprised, but showed no signs of being agitated by her presence, and the mare near the door even waved at her to step inside.
“Needed to get some air?” she asked with a smile.
“No bird likes to just stay in its cage,” the stallion next to her added.
“Yeah, now that you mention it... seen any pigeons lately?” the mare asked.
The red-maned stallion fixed his bright green eyes on Ditzy. The pony in the passenger seat remained motionless, staring through the drenched windshield.
The mare nodded slowly in response, tapping her bag. The green unicorn shrugged and scooted aside to give her room to sit down. The moment she did, he closed the door behind her. A pair of dog tags swung off his neck as he wrestled with the back door.
They stared each other down silently for a few more seconds before the younger ponies all reached for the pile of bags.
“So, Pigeon, huh?” the green mare said. “Welcome to the club. I guess this takes care of rendezvous.” She rubbed her temples and smirked. “Duck One.”
“Duck Two,” the green stallion next to her said.
“Owl,” the red-maned stallion at the front said. “And Rooster,” he added, pointing a hoof to his side. “You’ll get along. He doesn’t talk much.”
They remained silent for a while as the mare set down her bag and looked around. The cart gave shelter from the elements and seemed to be in working order, as the engine was left on idle. The four empty bags were discarded on the floor, while the uniforms were laid out on the seat next to the green mare. She retrieved her own uniform and mask, putting a plastic bag and an umbrella in their place.
“We’re what’s left then?” said Duck Two. “The last Delivery ponies standing? Everyone else went belly up?”
“I don’t think so,” Owl answered. “I've been reading the news these past few weeks. We’re not the first big hit like this, they’re just blaming everything on those... on ES/AS. I guess they just don't learn." He sighed and pressed a button on the dashboard to turn on the windshield wipers. “Still, I can't confidently say we're not the last.”
“Were there any others at all?” Duck One added. “It’s always been just the four of us. I mean, who else can do what we do? I never bothered to find out.”
Ditzy tilted her head and gave a small huff. Blinking a few times, she raised her hoof to make a gesture, but stopped herself halfway through. The pegasus hung her head and spread her wings to make sure her knives were securely in place, which gathered stares.
“Hm… so you’ve done this before, right?” Duck Two asked.
Ditzy nodded. Tilting her head, she scanned everyone with her good eye. The Ducks looked at each other, raising eyebrows. One looked Two and subtly pointed at the tags hanging off her neck, to which Two curtly shook his head in response.
Eventually, she shrugged and raised her chin, poking at her throat with the tip of her hoof. Owl turned to Rooster and whispered something, which made the pony shuffle out of the shadows. He was an orange stallion with faded yellow hair and glassy blue eyes. Him and Ditzy stared at each other for some time.
“He knows sign language better than I do,” Owl told her. “Sign him where you’ve been. We don’t want to fuck this up.”
The pegasus complied, making a series of gestures to briefly recount all of her previous missions. Rooster stopped her halfway through and nodded at Owl, adding a few gestures of his own. The bearded unicorn got back into his seat and gunned the engine to keep it hot.
“Good. Knives and wings is good. Shield, magic, assault, now air too... Wish the likes of us got to have medics. Anyway...” Owl said. “The plan is simple. We go in at ground level, you enter through the third floor. Any of their muscle is either outside or screwing about up there. We’ll cause a ruckus, while you take out as many as you can. Then we get to the fourth and find the VIPs.”
Duck One and Two each pulled out a box from under their seats in the back of the van. They contained the four killers’ masks - two identical, green-headed ducks with red 'I' and 'II' numerals on their foreheads, a wrinkled rooster mask, and an owl mask, torn in the middle to make room for the oculi and filter of a gas mask.
“We do this, and the world’s a better place. For real this time.” Duck One said. She pulled on her mask and unzipped the sheath of the long object next to her. It was a big, aged riot shield with plenty of scars and dents, as well as several spikes attached to the front side, held by bolts and duct tape. Her partner grunted as he fitted his horn through a hole drilled above the forehead of his mask, and the appendage sparkled to life, elevating a pair of small crystal firearms from his bag, their hoof straps missing and their barrels hollow, fitted instead with short iron rods within glass containers. “We’ll stomp the roaches and smoke the rats. Show them we still have teeth. That we don't need to dust-bomb the place and bring the hoof down on normal ponies to fix this place.”
“Yeah, we ain't the ES/AS. No. They can't hide from us. We have them to the wall.” Duck Two turned to Ditzy, who had gotten up from her seat as well. “Leave none of them alive. The ponies in there, they're worse than the bugs. They let it get this bad. Right, Pigeon?”
“Yeah, you should go in first,” Owl said. “We’ll go in once the light show starts, that should give you a chance to breathe.” He pressed on the accelerator again, revving up the engine further. The mare got up and reached for the door handle, only pausing when Owl spoke up again.
“Don’t hold back. Don’t worry about casualties. We’ll need them if we want everypony to see... to understand. It’s tough, but it’s the right thing to do. We’re making the world a better place.”
“Yeah,” Duck One added. “Just be careful. No one here’s got a death wish.”
Ditzy nodded and left the cart, spreading her wings to rise through the turbulent air. She aimed for a large window on the third floor, while the others started squabbling again. One of them jumped out and delivered a swift buck to the engine block and the cart roared as it took off, quickly driving up the spiraling path toward the guarded mansion.
The mare with the pigeon mask slipped in through the wide open window, stepping as quietly as she could on the thick red carpet, droplets of rain falling from her coat and staining the walls and expensive furniture. One of her wet hooves smeared a bright red symbol on an exposed section of the floorboards, the paint still wet.
The floor was designed as a living space, with long corridors connecting lounges and living rooms, most of them vacant. The luxurious spaces formed a large, hollow rectangle around an open chamber with a circular stairwell in the middle. She found dozens of side passages along the way, the walls adorned with exotic murals, and the floor below was visible from the walkways leading to the stairwell. Even from the corner where she had entered, the mare could hear the noise from below - deep, bassy music emitted by loudspeakers, and a steady drone of various indiscernible sounds.
She moved swiftly, coming up to a sharp turn in the corridor, where she nearly ran face first into a teal mare dressed in white, an earpiece on her head and a security baton bulging from under her suit. The pigeon rammed her hoof into the mare’s throat from below, toppling her and allowing for a quick stomp on the face, spraying sizzling green all over the carpet.
The masked mare quickly moved on, coming into contact with only a small number of patrols. The guards were a mixture of Caballeros and Majors, all patrolling in tight, attentive formations. She managed to dispose of at least three more until the rest were alerted - she choked the first to come by, twisted another’s neck, and ran a third one’s eye socket through a coat rack as she swept the rest of the floor. Each one flickered and sizzled, turning into drone husks.
The alarm sounded when she ran into her fourth victim - a tall, blonde maned, blue unicorn, who walked carefully along one of the walkways, squinting at the first drone’s corpse in the distance. He only noticed the pigeon when she stepped right in front of him, only having a moment to gasp before his legs were swept out from under him. She bashed his head against the railing to silence him, leaving the brightly illuminated convention below unawares. His eyes sparkled a bright green and his form flickered as well, revealing a synaptic changeling moments before the power of the mare’s blows separated his horn from his head.
The mare was about to make her way to the stairs when she heard multiple pairs of hooves galloping down the sprawling corridors, some of the furniture and artwork falling victim to the stampede along the way. At the same time, the music and chatter below quieted down.
Instinctively, she broke her way into the closest room by bucking the door and leaned against the wall, listening for her pursuers. Her good eye scanned the rich living space for any potential weapons, but her search was cut short. A bright flash from a wave of energy rushed through the chamber, making the mare's hair rise briefly. She heard someone barking orders and immediately broke her way into the adjacent apartment, abandoning the now useless hiding spot. Timing it, she opened the door right into a guard’s face, immediately following that up by smashing a nearby vase on his skull.
The drone did not come alone, being supported by two more changeling guards who did not even bother with disguises. The pigeon’s masked head slammed into one of their chitinous skulls, shoving him into his partner to make them both drop. She locked her hooves together to deliver the killing blow, only to hit the floor instead as both drones quickly recovered and rolled aside. She narrowly dodged an electric baton to the face from one, and had to leap into the other before he could get a shot off with his gun.
here was a much brighter green light flashing in his eyes as she knifed him between the ribs, then kicked off him to ram into the melee guard and toss him against the door. She stepped on his throat before he could get back up, and his horn gave off a weaker glow right after the wet crack rang out. There was a transparent, thin trail of green smoke heading off downwards, off the ramp.
The pigeon took into the air, only for a second, and dove for the opposite side of the circular opening in the middle. In so doing she dodged several shots, as the mobster guards from that side had already tracked her down. Galloping down the corridors on the other side, however, the masked mare found herself in front of an entire firing group of four, complete with another blonde blue unicorn behind them, glaring at her.
Within the second it took for him to start concentrating his magic on her body, she leaped into the air andswiftly got her hind hooves in front of her, bucking the wire of a crystalline chandelier clean off. The pigeon landed in the mess of disassembled, heavy crystal blocks, and grabbed the blonde stallion by his head, pulling at his mane, and plunged his face into a sharp shard of crystal, panting rapidly, heartbeats in her ears.
The rest of the guards, already stunned and lacerated, suddenly jerked and opened their mouths, their eyes going dark for a second. A series of incoherent noises came from each of them, changing spasmodically in pitch and volume, and their bodies twisted sharply, blank eyes open wide, almost colorless, more of a bluish hue than the toxic changeling green. By when the mare was done finishing them off with the convenient sharp objects around her, only the last one regained the usual blank green glow in his eyes, which the pigeon forcibly gouged out, staining her coat and suit with irritant synaptic liquid. When she was done, there were multiple vapor trails drifting out of the husks of her victims, all coalescing into one and drifting in some direction.
Her breath stabilized in time for her to hear a loud crashing noise, followed by metallic screeching, followed then by panicked screams, some instantly turning to panic and agony. Her nose, flooded with the body odor pooling within the mask, caught the scent of charred pony coat and flesh. She turned around to continue sweeping her floor, which appeared to have the largest contingent of guards in the manor.
Having taken a few steps, the masked mare was forced into a swift backwards dodge. There was a crouched avian figure right in front of her, a long-necked crane, who appeared without any of her senses catching on. The masked mare had enough space to dodge a long, thin stiletto that the griffon jabbed towards her neck with its long arms. It hissed with an echoing tingle and disappeared in a soft green flash, leaving behind only a blurry silhouette in place of the white crane in a sleek white suit, which previously stood out among the pinks, browns, blacks and blues of the nearby corpses. After lingering around for a short time, anticipating an attack that never came, the pegasus moved on.
She continued sweeping the floor occasionally running into search parties of four, each of which, devoid of a unicorn of their own, were swiftly dispatched in the usual manner of choking, stomping, stabbing and neck-twisting. The changelings among the guards were disoriented, frequently failing to respond to her presence while their pony cohorts were being murdered. However, different search parties began mixing in, approaching from other levels - slower, more apt groups of two bludgeon-bat guards and two gunners, predominantly brown, pink and yellow Caballeros mobsters in formal suits. These parties cast a contrast on the blue and white guard contingent, who were significantly more limp and delayed in their actions, comprised mostly of changelings.
The mare exercised more caution in dispatching the livelier, more agitated gangsters - she successfully laid ambush on a group, appearing from behind a corner, disposing of both gunners with her wings, leaving knives in the backs of their necks. The melee guards at the front spun around, but failed to hit her before their throats were pierced. The impact lacked the crunch and crackle of chitin, with sprays of red staining her uniform. Of the four knives the pegasus pulled out and quickly reinserted into the prepared slots, only one was covered in green ooze.
She passed by the circular stairs again, risking a look at the floors below. A wall of flame rushed for the row of tables and banners that were visible from up there. A bellowing, crackling roar was followed by the sounds of stone being crushed and heavy impact against wooden walls, making her stop for a moment. Not having found entry to the fourth and final floor yet, she looked back to the corpse-filled maze of rooms on the third floor and rushed downstairs to where most of the changeling survivors from her level disappeared to. The green, smokey trails emitting from their corpses were visible along the path she took.
The mare was briefly stunned upon having gone downstairs, entering a wide, spacious, column and table-filled presentation hall on the second floor. The miasmic odor of burning synapse, charred tile and scorched flesh permeated the air, while the formerly cyan illumination was overshadowed by an altogether purplish smoke. The music was warped, the loudspeakers choking on notes and beats. Anguished, panicked screams came from the surrounding halls.
She turned around, blinking her eyes forcefully to get through the noxious haze, and nearly walked into the crane, who appeared where only a layer of smoke was last time she blinked. Instinctively backing away, the pigeon found herself bumping into another avian form - a shorter, more muscular one. She reflexively sidestepped, but before even finishing the move, the mare registered the griffon abruptly falling over, flashing green. A dislodged piece of rebar had been tossed against her head, causing it to leak liquid that alternated between green and red before settling on green.
The pegasus had to hop side to side a couple more times as the bigger griffon, a raven in formal dress with tailcoats and bowtie, wasted little time in attempting to skewer her neck. His beak and his sword were recognizable, only the uniform being different, and several ornaments on the sword appearing out of place. His breath reverberated slightly as huffed through the smoke-filled air.
She had to dedicate all of her attention to his rapid stabbing motions, retreating at risk through the destroyed presentation hall. He advanced with quick, leaping motions, switching between being on all fours and a bipedal stance, whichever favored the next strike. Eventually, the pegasus tripped on a large, sizzling corpse of a synaptic, its bovine disguise half-formed. She heard a blade swish through the air and make a metallic ping on a column, right where her neck was a moment before. Her toppling over left the raven temporarily distracted, allowing her to lunge from below, sending a blade into the griffon's chest. She then launched herself off the ground to pounce on him, crushing the smooth, beaked head under her locked hooves, covering herself in more rashing synapse than before. His body flickered back to the raven's default jacket before reverting to its synaptic form, bleeding green on the floor.
Across the chamber, Rooster was pummeling a female Caballero unicorn's head into the floor, staining her pink suit with blood. Not far from him was the broken-necked crane changeling's husk. There were numerous other fresh bodies in the vicinity, matching the amount that appeared to have withdrawn from the mare's floor. Stringy green trails webbed together, disappearing into an emptier part, obscured in smoke in shadow.
Ditzy got back up and moved on through the devastated hall. A pillar of flame flashed a short distance ahead, with a new howl penetrated the thin walls. She reached a smashed set of double doors, designed with a gate-like appearance. Before she could push through them, there was a bright green flash from the corner of the hall. Emerging from there was a lumbering minotaur shape, covered excessively in dangling trinkets that flashed and melted as it roared, his voice switching through pitches and outright different voices. There was a stairway behind him, illuminated now by the flames that covered the changeling.
Giving her head a brief shake, the pegasus headed for the door-gates nonetheless. Along the way, she gave Rooster a nod and watched him rush off to the other half of the hall, where sporadic gunshots and quick, brief yelps followed.
She entered swiftly to avoid anything else that could come from the stairway. As the pigeon entered through the doors, she was immediately given an opportunity, bashing her head against a flickering brown unicorn, who was trying to stumble towards the doorway. Having him on the floor, the mare saved her strength by dragging him face-first into a brightly burning chair, letting go once the flame set fast on him, his goatee fizzling away first, and then the rest of the unicorn visage. Chairs made up most of the furniture in this room - six rows, separated by a carpeted lane she entered upon, with a pedestal at the far end, backed by an inactive videodrome display.
A comparatively small unicorn figure stood behind the pedestal, the reflections of the flames in the room flickering in the oculi of his mask, the tip of his horn still smoldering. A pair of decaying minotaur husks lay either side of him, and he had a knife in his forehoof, currently stuck in one of their skulls, with him attempting to pull it out. Owl glanced at Ditzy as he got his leg free, and sped off past her. The pigeon cast one last glance at the rows of chairs, crowded with corpses of both ponies, many of them richly dressed civilians, and changelings, speeding to follow him through the columned hall.
Rooster had gone through a similar pair of double doors, one of them hanging off the hinges, a massive indentation in its middle. Owl lagged behind, nearly tripping on the charred pony corpses, his breathing audible to the mare even from a distance, as she neared the chamber beyond the door-gates. Choosing to sweep in through the intact door, she immediately moved to the edge of the hall. It was large, filled with statues of ponies and changelings in various uniforms, a high ceiling and a fountain in the middle, bearing a star at its top. Numerous Majors lay all over the floor, their legs and necks bludgeoned.
The mare's hoofsteps were heard by a pair of surviving gunslingers in dark pink suits - one of them merely caught a glance of the pigeon before she launched herself towards them. Their shots went wide, having been fired ahead of where she moved, before plunging in their directions. Several of the manor's stained glass windows shattered as the masked mare made impact, knocking one over using the other's body, before headbutting him as well, sending the brown stallion to the floor. She heaved and pulled at his gun leg, forcing it into the other gunslinger's abdomen. Her hoof stepped onto one of its joint, causing a wet crunch and making it fire, bursting the other mobster's now-chitinous stomach open.
The owner of the leg screeched in pain as the recoil rattled even more of his now broken bones. The mare then picked him up by the neck and drowned him in the bubbling mess that his changeling partner’s belly had become. By then, Owl had entered through the door-gates. Ditzy turned back, looking at him as he stared from behind the oculi of the mask. The stallion emitted a low, muffled chuckle.
Beyond a row of marble statues, Rooster was backing away from a shambling, large, bluish-grey figure in a white suit. Even from that far away, the mare could see the intense sparkling of the multitude of rings on its huge hands - the ones that weren’t covered by sizzling green liquid. The figure got slower and slower, letting out a distorted mooing sound, and eventually fell flat on the ground, its horns digging into the lush carpet. Around it were bodies of yet more Majors, some of them retaining their natural coats, comm beads blinking bright red from the ears of some. Most had either signs of severe bludgeoning, or their own weapons, even blunt ones, lodged into their mouths and chests.
Rooster and Owl glanced each other for a moment, then at her. The former leaned against a blood-stained statue to gesture to her and point his hoof down, then wave it in the air around his head. The pigeon nodded and gestured in response, pointing to where the stairs in the corner of the main hall were. Loud, thumping sounds and more stone crushing could be faintly heard from below, along with several shrill screams. Rooster and Owl both pointed down, storming out of the ornate hall, Owl igniting his horn along the way.
As the mare went to follow them, she stomped on the head of one last drone as it tried to crawl away. Raising her head, the pigeon came face to face with an entanglement of the green trails, which joined together, spiraling, much more defined near where the drone had been crawling - an empty section of the wall, a blank space between two of the statues. While the drone's chitinous carapace broke under her blows, its eyes shone brighter than usual at its last moment, turning cyan very briefly.
Blinking the sweat off her eyes a few times, the mare left the other two masked ponies behind, taking a closer look at the empty section. It was devoid of tapestries or murals, a relatively blank space compared to the rest of the mansion, even the other spaces between statues. The pigeon shook her head, turned away, and grabbed a big, gilded goblet that stood on a nearby intact table. She bashed it against the smooth surface, which resulted in a green spark emerge among the cracks. Her breath came out raspy, wheezing, as her foreleg swung sideways against the wall, the rest of her body stiffening to stay balanced.
The pegasus paused for a second, swiveling in place, when a noise came from behind the wall. It was a dull, distorted hum. The mare’s body jerked and shook, eyes blinking incoherently, pupils widening and shrinking back down. She thrashed her head, tossing around the sweat that had pooled under the mask, making it stream down onto the stained, torn postal uniform. Her foreleg continued to bash and probe the wall, while her hind legs shuddered.
After a few more hits, the wall disappeared, emitting a crackling sound that drowned out the fiery cacophony in the rest of the mansion. In front of her was an implausibly large, bland chamber, also filled with statues, appearing a mirror companion to the one she just left. It was unfinished, scaffolds surrounding the incomplete, dusty statues of five mares along the walls. Where the fountain stood in the other hall, was a singular statue depicting two alicorns joined together, with their forehooves outstretched.
The entire hall was swarming with changelings, a bright, radiating synaptic standing on top of the alicorns' joined hooves, his mane swinging in the wind created by the green vortex that poured out of his horn. It was where the green trails were heading towards.
“You’ve been discovered. Enough with the circus performance!”
She blinked as the figures all spoke the same words in unison, their voices distorted, following the lead of the long-maned synaptic. The maelstrom channeling from his horn flickered with each syllable, occasionally sparkling cyan. The entire rest of the changelings were still up until then, knelt in an identical position around the statues, only a small few coming to life with their eyes no longer bursting with bright green light.
The lead changeling shouted, his words not being echoed this time. The pigeon dashed behind one of the massive statues, which were set up in a circle, facing each other. Her legs carried her to a whole clump of variously clothed drones, and she lunged into them. They offered little to no resistance as she broke their heads in and shoved their bodies in front of incoming gunfire from the far side of the hall. Their mouths were open wide, emitting green vapor, and their eyes were pulsating brightly. She dispatched a group of six, leaving behind puddles of brightly glowing, bubbling liquid behind, and she began to stalk the next group, briefly taking cover behind another statue.
There ceased to be words, as her brain and spine reverberated at the discordant feeling of magic gathering in the air. More and more changelings became active as the mare dispatched another group, putting the sturdy goblet to a deadly use, saving her knives. Some of the changelings from the dazzled crowd were rising and moving sluggishly, trying to corner her. Nearly all of them were synaptics, clad in black vests and ties, complete with white shirts, much like the one on the central statue. Briefly, she could see entire groups of non-equine forms before they slipped out of view, seeming to wear the same attire. The equine ones who remained set their horns alight, drowning out the unpleasant, electric, fleshy sounds that began to emit from various parts of the chamber.
The synaptics in vest-and-tie uniform, while they illuminated their horns with combat magic, remained dazed and uncoordinated. Rather than attack them directly, the mare leaped from cover to cover, occasionally coming close to being caught in the crossfire of green lightning. The synaptics poured more and more destructive energy her way, which the mare drew into groups of entranced drones. They ended up immolated by their own kin’s pillars of scorching green flame, leaving them a gooey mess while the mare dodged behind the next statue.
With a steadied breath, the pegasus flipped around and threw her goblet leg right in the face of an avian changeling, who was still halfway into the process of forming the crane’s visage. The metal cracked the chitin on what was forming to be a beak, making the creature scream while it dodged the next blow and moved out of sight. The pigeon anticipated an attack and turned around rapidly to stab in its direction with her wing. A fully-formed magpie towered over her, barely fazed by her blades as he swung his hammer.
She quickly took to the air and dove into the next group of drones, bolts of energy tearing through the air where she had been moments ago. Her fore and hind legs worked mechanically as she dispatched the entranced, unmoving drones, some of them Majors, some Caballeros, some civilians - businessponies and security guards. No further attacks came in the meantime, however, which made her glance at her would-be pursuers.
A group of at least ten bovine and avian changelings stared her down, with most having assumed their forms and in place to shield a pair of synaptics, who were shuddering as their disguises were being overwritten with the visage of a blonde, blue unicorn in a white suit. The pigeon kicked a mindless drone toward the congregation and dove behind the nearest statue, getting closer and closer to the scaffolding that the apparent leader was standing upon.
She then tumbled to the ground as one of the newly formed Majors unicorns grabbed her exposed hind leg. Coming in brief eye contact with the long-maned changeling, she was nearly blinded by the strength of the green light. Only with a rapid, strong flap of her wings was she able to dart out of the grip, shortly before a raven changeling descended on her position, his rapier aimed at the spot where her head had been.
“You… had one… job!” a loud voice boomed through the hall, nearly sending her to the floor again while she ran for the scaffolds. It was several voices in one, a dominant masculine tone distinguishable by an accent, the others sounding off as aftershock echoes.
At least a dozen simultaneous, piercing screeches filled the room, and for a few seconds, all sound disappeared, replaced with a hollow ringing in the mare's ears. The maelstrom grew unstable, seeping into the ceiling, and from there, forming into tendrils that dug into the walls and the floor. It flickered for a moment, and as the voice roared distantly, the magic nearly fizzled out.
The synaptic pursuers fell over, their eyes and mouths stretched out, letting out clouds of green vapor. The mare herself was briefly knocked on her rump, her stomach heaving. The griffon, as well as multiple other non-pony changelings, was stretched out on the floor, thrashing violently as their bodies flickered between different shapes and proportions.
She was up a few seconds later, casting a look at the three additional groups of mindless drones, all of them leaking vapor as well. Overhead, the vortex had nearly achieved full power again, if not becoming stronger. After a moment of deliberation, the pigeon launched herself onto the scaffolds, giving a low hiss as she worked her stiffening wings.
Biting her tongue under the mask, she scaled the statue, which was at least twenty meters in height. Her legs had to carry her all the way, while her wings were all but limp, with only three knives left sheathed within them. Just as she reached one of the alicorns' flank, she winced from a series of blasts showering her with debris, as some of the changelings below had regained control, firing off weak bolts of energy. More and more became active every second, while the mare avoided a curving pillar of flame by climbing onto the back of the pony she had been scaling.
Her hearing was starting to recover, allowing her to catch the crackling of the conflagration. Spreading her wings to help balance, the mare made her way toward the changeling that had been standing on the tip of the statue, where the alicorns’ forehooves joined together. Behind her, she could hear wings, and the base of the statue crackled and shuddered as heavy bovine punches and hammers rattled the foundation.
Flexing her neck, the mare went for the glowing synaptic, who struggled to keep standing as the vortex channeled from his horn, creating visible recoil. The light coming from all of his orifices and the synapse maelstrom was almost blinding, more cyan than green. Proceeding with her eyes shut, the masked mare reached out for him with her forelegs. Getting her wings to do another flap, the pegasus threw herself forward, closing the distance and flinging him downwards.
A booming explosion was set off, both from the changeling's body and the disrupted spell itself, forcing her to cling to the statue. She did not hold on for long - the massive slab began to give out under her. Stretching her exhausted wings, the pigeon darted downwards, gliding towards the center of the hall to the best of her ability.
All around her were dim, spent changeling husks. Landing in a pile of lifeless drones, the mare got back up only to stumble, unable to keep her balance. She landed next to where the lead synaptic landed after she threw him off.
Letting out the breath she had been holding, the masked mare fell on her side, limbs going limp.
She looked at what remained of the synaptic. Her good eye gazed, half-closed, at the mashed snout, one half shattered like glass against the floor. Clumps of long, dark green hair obscured most of the thick, protruding face. The one surviving eye was crossed with an long, aged scar in his carapace.
Occasionally, the form of the fallen synaptic would flicker, shifting into what distantly resembled a badly mutilated burly brown earth pony. Various items would spawn all over the stallion's body - a medical mask, a white gown, a pair of surgery goggles. At one moment, Royal Guard armor began to form over his body, fizzling out almost instantly. The mare's head tilted.
The tie and vest he wore were persistent whenever the changeling's true form appeared. Also genuine was the bottle of green vials that rolled out of his pocket, spilling its contents all over the tarnished floor. His eye moved side to side, changing shape as the changeling’s body compensated, futilely, for the grievous damage.
The mare’s mask moved as she sat down, her mouth coming open wide. She made raspy, wheezing noises, forcing the pigeon’s beak to nod, before pausing abruptly, no longer breathing. The mare rose mechanically from where she lay and set herself upright on her legs, head slowly fixating on the crippled synaptic. Her forehoof stretched out and smacked the stunned changeling’s intact cheek. Her bad eye twitched and straightened itself to stare right at him. His unfocused iris came in contact with hers. As he moved his head, the other eye became visible, only a half of it remaining, the chitin and synapse congealing to try and repair the damage.
“The… the fuck else do you want, you…” he mumbled, half of his fangs gone. Her good eye, orbit twitching, stared right through his. The mare’s neck tilted, eyes continuing to drill through his. The stiff wings on her back stood at attention, flapping rigorously in tune with her rising breath.
“Feral… fucking… nutcase. What?.. I… Just let me…” the changeling mouthed, glaring at her through her stained mask. His horn flickered with inept synapse, and his eyes slowly lost their glow, becoming more similar to a pony's, the slit pupils becoming more round as his body fought the damage. “What, you… want to know what we were doing?.. You postal fucking loon... Want answers? Wanna... wanna know where this is going? Well— Fuck you.”
The half-faced synaptic gurgled with discordant laughter, until he suffered a bubbling coughing fit. By when he was done, the mare’s head tilted back up, but her eyes still drilled him, twitching and unblinking.
“Feeling lost, bitch?.. How's... how's it feel, spree-killing like that... huh, pony?”
With a vigorous stretch, the pegasus’ body surged and she bashed her forehoof against the featureless concrete floor to the side of his head. He wheezed with laughter in response, his pupils rolling back, but her other forehoof gave him another smack on the face, and he was brought back to stare at her, grinning with what remained of his mouth. The mare’s body jerked, her head twitched. Slowly, she leaned back to sit on her hind hooves, removed the pigeon mask.
Taking a raspy breath of ozonous, dust and sweat-filled air, she lowered her head over his. Their eyes came in contact again. Her bad eye shook in all directions, swelling and growing bloodshot.
“What... old lady?.. You look... you look like shit. What about your... your face?”
Ditzy was completely motionless for a few seconds. The only movement was from the posthumously twitching changeling bodies, and from the heavy breathing of the injured one in front of her.
“What’s… what’s the po—”
His words were interrupted as the Ditzy’s right forehoof came down on his neck. He looked at her, and she placed her left forehoof on her defunct left eye. Then she withdrew the right forehoof, and drew a line on her throat, highlighting a subtle, jagged scar. Then, completely silent, she went back to staring at him with wide, unblinking, reddening eyes.
“Got... got charades on your flank, pony?”
Ditzy’s left forehoof submerged itself into what remained of the changeling’s left eye, causing a quiet wheeze to come out of him. His broken, slowly dissolving body arched. She took it out before it reached too far. The synaptic contorted in pain, heaving and gurgling.
“WHAT? F— FFFUCKING WHAT???”
Ditzy’s head tilted, her ears flicking. Then they began twitching, and so did her body. The synaptic let out a small puddle of barely steaming liquid out of his dissolving mouth. His moaning became less and less pony-like.
“H… heh. Heh. Oh... oh f-fuck me... Crazy don’t… fucking die, huh? Want a… take two?” He lifted his liquifying, barely equine face to stick the remnants of his snout into hers. The wreck of the changeling’s body creaked audibly as it struggled to support him being upright. “Heh... he was— right, for once... You're late, postal bird.”
The changeling’s battered body was only kept together by vest, shirt and tie, losing more and more of its black, jagged mass to compensate for the fatal damage. It remained upright, however, doing its best to grin at her as the entity’s cranial cortex lit up faintly inside its jagged, chitinous skull. Ditzy’s head twitched, tilted, mouth staying open still, and her eyes slowly closed one by one. Then, she began to bash against the crippled changeling with her forehooves locked together, wings fluttering sporadically.
Her hooves came down on his body again and again, leaving the abdomen pulp, the limbs twisted and liquifying, entire portions alternating between gelatinous green ooze and viscous, red, slimy organs. She pounded and maimed the changeling, utterly silent, without pause, all of her limbs joining into the relentless bashing. Her chest was still, her leg and wing muscles bulged from under the coat, and her eyes were locked open. Her mouth opened and closed, forming noises that came out as sibilant, incoherent whispers.
Finally, all that remained relatively solid was the half of his head. A single eye, crossed by a scar, stared out to her. Her own threw itself open and glared deep into it, her mouths contorted and open, just like what remained of his. The pupil drew backwards, after which his blank, dead eye went aglow.
The same bright, vibrant green glow started to erupt from each other orifice, and then from all the gaping wounds she delivered to him. She sat unmoving on her hind legs, staring at the mangled corpse as it rose to sit, mimicking her posture. Its eyes, shining green like searchlights, glared at her. What remained of the mouth opened, the jaw hanging off, still emitted a piercing, echoing voice. It wasn't his voice, having an accent and being backed by a choir of other tones.
“You… must be one of the crazy-asses these featherbrains dug up. Here you are, ruining all my nice, shiny plans. Well done,” spoke the voice, reverberating through Ditzy’s spine. It came out of every single changeling in the hall, both incapacitated and dead. “For how interested your masked loony lot are in answers, you don’t seem like one to chat. Why don’t we… get this over with?”
Several dozen flashes and light explosions happened all around her. Ditzy sat, unmoving, as each and every changeling around her expired in a flash of green, their eyes giving out completely, green vapor draining into the air.
“Not bad… not bad at all, pony. They had no idea... heh, heh, heh. I wonder what gave you this… hunger for blood. You’re an interesting bird. I’ve never seen anything like it. So this is what's behind the mask...” At the last words, the deformed long-haired synaptic began to convulse, to which the mare slowly got up and walked several steps away, then turning face to face with as it forced a few more words out. “We should meet again.”
The last changeling in the statue hall exploded, and the mare heard the creaking of large gates opening behind her. She picked up the mask and put it on, walking out of the hall and to the stairway the gates lead to, finding herself on the ground floor.
Her legs carried her through the demolished entry hall, stepping rigidly. Disparate, dismembered corpses were strewn all around, most of the destroyed, overturned furniture covered in red. Whichever changelings were there had been fizzled out much like the ones in the statue chamber, wisping away their liquid remains. A few choice synaptic bodies still continued to twitch, lightless eyes staring into the ceiling, strewn randomly among the chaos. The pigeon barely stopped to finish each off with a quick stomp.
There were moving figures at the far end of the entrance hall. Obscured by the pizza delivery carriage, which had been driven through the ornate glass doors, burying several ponies under it, she saw the three figures bashing against a large white lump. The mare took a look to the side while moving past the stairway Rooster and Owl must have gone down from. From there, there was a trail of scorched and bludgeoned gangsters, which littered the smooth red carpets with bodies of ponies in blue and white.
Over the sounds of the other masked ponies' breaths and their weapons bashing and stabbing against the large bluish-grey minotaur that lay in a dead end, the pigeon heard faint, gurgling breaths. Tilting her head rapidly to face it, she saw a blonde maned blue unicorn, who pushed himself desperately against a wall, cradling a twisted, out-of-joint foreleg, one of his eyebrow piercings pushed into the skin, a large red patch spreading under his fine white suit.
The mare looked back to the others, seeing that by now, most of the blows were being delivered by Rooster alone, while Duck One and Two had stepped back and began to examine something closer to the very end of the hallway. Owl was slumped against a wall, submerged into an indentation, a pool of blood spreading under him.
“O-oh fffuck…” the familiar unicorn sputtered, coughing up blood. He shuddered as the mare came up to him and screamed rabidly as she grabbed him by his broken leg, clutching it against her chest first, before lugging him toward what remained of a table, now a collection of sharp pegs.
“Pigeon? You—” Duck Two called out, his voice coming out muffled from behind the mask. “Okay, just... Listen to us. Give this fucker over to us.” He stepped back, the small firearm suspended by his telekinesis turning away and lowering.
His eyes avoided contact with hers, as the mare's twitched in different directions, the bad eye forgetting to blink.
“Yeah. Give him here. It looks like we need one of these alive to get into the ascending room. It’s magic,” Duck One began to speak, but stopped once the pigeon’s eyes switched to her. “Just… calm down. We did it. Bring that pig over here. Can you hear us?”
For a short time, it was silent, with an undertone of methodical, wet thuds delivered by Rooster to an increasingly more deformed minotaur skull. The Major unicorn screeched for some time, ultimately choking on his cries while the pegasus dragged him to the Ducks by his broken leg. She had to forcibly let go of his disjointed leg, as neither of them stepped close to her.
The gangster was immediately picked up, shoved against the wall, and dragged along it, until a light twinkle signaled the opening of the previously invisible ascending room doors at the end of the former dead end. His face was then rammed into the trio of spikes at the front of Duck One’s leg-mounted shield.
The pigeon looked at Owl. His chest was dented in, the suit wrinkling and flopping there where his abdomen would have supported it as he sat. A web of thick cracks covered the wall behind him. Rooster continued to wail on the dead minotaur, his fortified suit and destroyed communications equipment now more red than white. The mare walked up to it and gave a massive, ring-covered hand a kick from her hind hooves, barely cracking any of the jewelry. The masked earth pony stopped and turned to the mare. Rooster and her stared at each other until there was a chirping sound, and the doors at the end closed, a light switching from red to green. Duck One and Two were gone.
Rooster looked away from her stare and walked up to Owl. He knelt before him, touching the neck for a moment, and then tore the unicorn's mask off. There was little left of it, all a broken, bloodstained bruise. Rooster threw his mask off as well and spat on the ground. He gently picked Owl up onto his back and headed back to the van. The bruised unicorn’s dead eyes gazed at her until both him and the earth pony disappeared into their vehicle, with three duffel bags, including hers, being thrown out shortly afterward. By when the engine started again, there was another chirp, and the lifting cage doors opened again.
The pigeon picked up the discarded owl and rooster masks and walked into the doors. She spent the next half a minute looking at her own masked reflection in the mirror. There was a gun blast up above. Then, two more, underscored with the crackling of electricity. Then, a high-pitched mooing screech. After that, an incoherent, screaming tirade picked up.
When the doors opened, the mare stood in a luxurious office, filled with woodwork, paintings, trinkets, blue and white company logos, bookshelves, mahogany office tables and corpses.
Most of the carpet in the middle was covered by the corpse of a huge, obese fat minotaur in a pink palmtree shirt, his bare chest covered by amulets, necklaces and various souvenirs, with two large holes burned through his body - one in his forehead, one in his gut. At a table by the side of the room slumped a brown earth stallion in a pitch black suit, his mane a greying blonde, with a single red rose peeking out the pocket, which added to the red that stained the wall behind him, as most of his face was missing, while a leg-strapped gun still smoking as it lay on the table. Closest to the lifting cage doors was a white crane griffon in a blue suit, whose long, knife-like beak was broken clean in half, her head crushed into an indentation in the floor, the crater bearing an imprint of a huge fist adorned with rings.
At the far end of the office, near the balcony, were the two Ducks, who cornered a tall, slender, aging yellow unicorn. His mane and moustache were a bright, toothpaste red and white, contrasting his white suit and blue shirt. The pigeon looked up and met his darting, dark green eyes.
“Oh, ok— ok— okay! Okay, so, fine, you don’t want money, I get that! I, I’m sure Se— Señor Torero gets it too, eheh! A-and the Don, too! Th-they weren't very flexible, but I am!” he blabbered while Duck One pushed her free forehoof into hsi chest, nudging him closer to the railing. “Well, you, you… You have to understand! There’s—”
“We understand well enough. We don’t need any answers. You're a rat. You saw this place turn to shit, and if the bugs weren't enough, you rotted real ponies, too.” Duck Two said, lighting up his firearm as it floated by the moustached unicorn’s head.
“Please, it wasn’t our choice, it was just... opportunity! You have to understand— It’s not that simple, we didn’t just—”
“Your 'security' is just a bunch of thugs and joy pushers with private funding, you fucking excuse for an equine being. You don't think we're just after the bugs, do you, Mr. Majority Solutions?”
“We… look, I, I see that you’re a, a, a group of very dedicated young ponies, but please don’t be so rash—”
“You made your fucking fortune off the back of Equestria’s loss!” Duck Two shouted, pressing his gun against the unicorn’s cheek. “The hell did you lose in your ivory tower?”
The moustached stallion held his breath, the panic in his eyes growing as he stared at the pigeon, who stayed completely still. Sweat poured off his forehead, and his whole body trembled.
“They killed my brother!" the stallion shrieked, crying. "Just because they were jealous of our success! Equestria was falling apart, and we were the solution! Majority Solutions, for all our new problems! Security, stability, safety! Copycats, idea stealers, small minds, they don't think - they just kill!"
The mare glanced at the tarnished office. Many of its pictures and most of the furniture were stained by the rain coming through the shattered windows. There was a portrait of the stallion being held up against the railing, fallen onto its side on his desk, only much younger and sans moustache.
“You're... you're bigger than that, aren't you?” he said, giving an awkward grin despite his teeth chattering. “I can make it worth your while.”
"Let's finish what they started,” Duck Two said, and a thin string of lightning sprung off from his gun. Duck One backed away before sent the convulsing stallion over the edge with her shield. There was a meaty thud.
The pigeon stared at the two of them. They stared back.
“We’ve won,” Duck One told her. Her and her partner turned away and walked back to the balcony, leaning over it, leaving their weapons behind, forehooves dangling off.
“It’s all over now,” Duck Two spoke quietly, taking off his mask and throwing it to the howling wind. Duck One did the same.
The pigeon walked to the balcony and let the owl and rooster mask fly as well, before taking off hers too.
She took the trip down and discarded her stained, torn suit into the bag, and went home, staring forward, her mouth slightly open, catching raindrops.
Tragedy struck as last night, at roughly 11 PM, as a group of terrorists attacked Opportunity Height Manor, the pearl of Carol City. Several dozen attendees were slaughtered in the shocking raid, dealing a massive blow to the infrastructure of shoreside Equestria. This attack is now the worst civilian massacre Equestria had seen since the Packsmulle Coexistence Riot of 1003, which saw…
...by the most brilliant minds in the country’s business ventures and attended since its establishment in 1007 by pioneers of change and progress in society, this year it attracted a group of rogue ES/AS agents with murderous intent, killing indiscriminately. Despite reports of the mansion having massively bolstered security…
...more than thirty businessponies and an as of yet unidentified number of licensed security guards belonging to affiliate private security companies Majority Solutions Ltd. and InterContinental Security Ltd. were slaughtered. The death toll includes...
...Torero, retired entrepreneur and playbull; Gaur, financial attache to the Taurine embassy in New Canterlot; Henrietta Königswald, security chief for the Griffon delegation, which arrived in early March; lastly, the manor's owner, Flam, who founded Majority Solutions Ltd. in late 1004, often credited with the birth of the private security market in Equestria. Additionally, the businesspony headed "The Flim-Flam Foundation", a charity organization for socialites, which most of the massacre's victims frequently donated to.
The presence of some of these high ranking figures at Opportunity Heights is as of yet unknown, though authorities have launched immediate investigations into the two security companies mentioned above, as their own CEOs were also among the victims at the...
...charity organizations are arriving in Carol City to set up relief efforts over the coming weeks. Citizens can find a list of identified victims at the nearest CCPD precinct. Due to the extremely graphic nature of most victims’ injuries, relatives are not required to take part in the identification process. Prejudice Rock Pact citizens affected by the disaster will be administered additional doses of euphorium from May 30th to July 28th. Regarding…
...and considering the sheer weight of this event, I would not be surprised if Carol City ended up at the forefront of international political attention.” Engels added. “I’m certain the Griffon Empire, for one, will provide vital support to victims of this tragedy, as well as the means to prevent this from happening again. As for your own leadership, the Sovereign Princess Twilight Sparkle’s long-standing zero tolerance policy regarding terrorist negotiations is unlikely to see any change, considering the obvious involvement of the rogue Emergency Situation Attack Squad in this dreadful affair. This is all starting to look a terrible lot like San Franciscolt, doubtlessly meaning that policy changes will need to occur. In fact, they will come to a great number of civil policies, that is for sure.”
The Daily Carol will continue to cover any pertinent news regarding the massacre, but for now our editorial staff wishes one single thing for the readers: stay safe. Remain vigilant.
The mare stepped mechanically on the wet, clumped sand. Raindrops dripped off her face, causing the twitching eyes to blink. She walked in a straight line, only changing direction to avoid the benches. Far in the distance, loud alarms were blaring, and she could see the police lights on the elevated rock several kilometers back the way she came. The neon lights of a beachside cafe illuminated her path as she went along.
Eventually, Ditzy stopped. She turned in place, and put down her bag. Then she sat down and leaned against it, laying under the heavy rain. Her bad eye slowly stopped twitching. As the raindrops caused her to blink more and more, it pulled back out of focus. Her jaw hung wide open, tongue catching the rainwater. The rain washed through her coat, soaking it thoroughly, and ridding it of sweat.
Ditzy’s legs went limp, throbbing in place. Her breath was raspy, quiet, slower with every next inhale. Blood fell back from her ears, raising the volume of the sirens and of the rain drumming against the ocean.
Her good eye drifted to the rays of the moon shining through the storm clouds, and her eyelids slipped shut.
“Mom?.. It’s cold out here.”
